


Pumpkin spice and everything nice

by Builder



Series: Powers/No Powers Choose-Your-Own-Adventure [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Autumn, Bucky Getting Better, Domesticity, Fluff, Helpful Steve Rogers, M/M, Pumpkin Spice Latte, Seasonal, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 07:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12164655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: The onset of cool weather is giving Bucky a bit of a setback.  Steve's doing his best to help him through it._________________________________________________________________________This is utter fluff and completely different from my other works.  It is set in Powers/No powers Choose-your-own-adventure.





	Pumpkin spice and everything nice

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Tumblr (@Builder051). It's short and seasonal and fluffy. 
> 
> I wrote it but geez, you guys, this is totally not me. I'm starving for angsty prompts, so if you have any please, please send them my way.

Steve holds both Starbucks cups and the bag of pastries against his chest with one hand as he unlocks the door to the townhouse with the other.  “Hey, I’m back,” he calls as he toes off his shoes and pads through the entryway into the kitchen.

 

Bucky’s still in pajamas, sitting at the kitchen table and browsing the news on his laptop.  “Hey,” he murmurs, navigating away from an article about car bombs in the Middle East.  He plays with a string on the sleeve of his hoodie and waits patiently for Steve to put down their breakfast and come join him. 

 

Steve glances at the back of Bucky’s head as he pulls plates from the cupboard.  The transition into autumn has been a rough one.  Chilly weather’s set in abruptly, creating a fairly extreme change from the comfortingly muggy summer.  The dark circles under Bucky’s eyes have been getting deeper by the day, material proof that he’s been sleeping less and worrying more.  Steve’d hoped bringing home hot drinks and sweets would lighten the mood a bit and bring a small positive association with the decidedly downer seasonal change.

 

He sets plates in front of his and Bucky’s places at the table and doles out thick slices of coffee cake. “It’s cinnamon,” Steve explains as Bucky tilts his head at the dark and light swirled pieces of pastry. “It’s good.  Kind of like Thanksgiving.  And here’s your coffee.”  He places Bucky’s regular black brew beside the plate, then starts loading up himself.

 

They eat on their pastries in silence for a few minutes.  Then Bucky lifts his fork and gestures toward Steve’s large white Starbucks cup.  “What’d you get?”

 

“It’s uh,” Steve starts out, a little embarrassed.  “It’s a pumpkin spice latte.”  He lifts the drink to show the __PSL__ scribbled on the side.  “People say it’s just for girls, but I think it’s pretty good.  Kind of like if you had pumpkin pie and coffee at the same time.”

 

“Huh,” Bucky says, continuing to stare at the cup.

 

“Do you want to try it?”  Steve holds the beverage out toward Bucky.

 

“Ok.”  Bucky reaches out for it.  He sniffs over the small opening in the lid, then raises it to his lips.  He lifts his chin as he takes a long draught, then turns his head to wipe his mouth on his shoulder as he hands the cup back to Steve.

 

“Good?” Steve asks.

 

Bucky shrugs.  His face is still turned away, but Steve can see his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows.

 

“You alright, Buck?”

 

Bucky’s fingers tremble as he folds them into a fist which he fits up against his lips.

 

“What’s wr—?”

 

Bucky’s out of his seat and bolting for the bathroom before Steve can get the rest of the thought out.

 

“Buck?”  Steve’s on his feet and following as soon as the sound of the first retch carries down the hallway.

 

Bucky’s on his knees in front of the toilet with his stump arm resting on the seat and his right hand doing all it can to keep his hair out of his face.  The single sip of latte seems to have opened a floodgate, and Bucky retches up several waves of his own coffee and cake and last night’s dinner.

 

Steve kneels beside him.  “Alright, you’re ok,” he murmurs.  Bucky shudders under his touch and spits out strings of mucous and bile.  He’s deathly pale and trembling all over.

 

Steve resigns himself to the worst.  They’re back at square one.  Everything he’s done to get Bucky back to himself is lost in regression.  He sees the true precariousness of the situation.  One gust of cold autumn wind, and everything he’s worked so hard to coax out of Bucky lost in a blank stare and rebellious stomach.

 

“It’s been a long time since you’ve lost it like that,” Steve murmurs as Bucky rides out a dry heave. “How are you feeling?  Do you want to lie down?”

 

Bucky coughs and lifts his bangs off his forehead again.  Steve knows he’s asking too many questions, moving too fast.  He mentally kicks himself.

 

“I…I’m ok,” Bucky groans.

 

“Buck, no, you don’t—”

 

“No, I’m fine,” Bucky pants, wiping clammy sweat from under his nose.  “I’m really, just…Why is that shit so fucking sweet?  Jesus, how can you drink that?”

 

“What?”  Steve’s confused.  “It was just—really?  God, I’m sorry, Buck.”  He breaks off giggling because he’s relieved and feels absolutely asinine.

 

“It’s ok,” Bucky breathes.  “I just, I never…I think I hate fall, Stevie.”

 

“Yeah, I know you do.  Come here.”  Steve flushes the toilet and reaches around Bucky so he can lean into Steve and drop his head onto his shoulder.  “You tell me when you’re feeling better, and I promise I’ll get you something better for breakfast.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please! Reqs! Prompts! Anything!


End file.
